


A Proposal

by LadyBergamot



Series: Tea For Two [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crush, Edeleth, F/F, Female Byleth, Femleth, Fluff, Pining, Short Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBergamot/pseuds/LadyBergamot
Summary: All is fair in war, but never love. As an emperor fighting a war, Edelgard must consent to a lucrative yet arranged marriage. That is of course, unless her crush has something to say about it.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Tea For Two [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631908
Comments: 23
Kudos: 274





	A Proposal

The sounds of a sleepless night came heavily on Edelgard’s ears. Miraculously enough, she could hear the thrum of crickets, the screech of old castle beams swaying against the wind, and the occasional laughter of drunken loiterers echoing like specters from the depths below her tower. The hour was late, and by now the clouds - thick with shadow - had misted over the silver moon, ushering in a lightless evening for the vigilant few in Garreg Mach.

The emperor let out a sigh, rolling her shoulders to shake off the fatigue as she dropped a heavily creased piece of parchment flat on her desk. Somehow, she had forgotten to take off her crown, and now the weight of solid metal bore down on her temples with the relentless pang of a headache. Too tired to care, she quickly wiggled it off of her head - not at all miffed by how it tousled her otherwise kempt silver hair.

_To Her Majesty, Emperor von Hresvelg of Adrestia_

_Supreme Ruler of a Unified Fodlan,_

_It is with deep gratitude and pride that I write to you, having won your permission, in the proposal …_

Edelgard averted her eyes. She did not dare reread those dreadful lines. Once was enough. The previous _three_ times she had been proposed to by various aristocratic sycophants were enough. Sighing once more, she reclined against her seat and, with gloved fingers, pinched the bridge of her nose.

She tried - very hard - to imagine what Hubert might say should she write a letter of rejection.

 _“Your majesty, our need is dire. Strong as your forces are, by marrying this duke, we can add to our strength,”_ he might claim. True enough, his callous words always bore a kernel of wisdom. But Hubert was nevertheless not without fault. In matters of war, he can be quite faultless, but in love…?

Edelgard pushed back against her seat.

 _No_ , she thought with a curl of her lower lip. _He knows nothing of…_ that.

The word was practically unnameable now that she had seen it professed to her in every possible form. Marriage proposals by letter, marriage proposals by grand visitations, marriage proposals by way of tribute… If Edelgard could win by the number of marriage proposals alone, then the war would be as good as won.

But…

The thought lingered, tensing up to knotted ball in her fists as they clenched over the parchment on her desk.

_But damn it all!_

The once silent room was filled with the rage of paper crumpling with a loud, satisfying crack. Edelgard crushed it in her hands, shaping it into a ball small enough to dart out into the air, where it shot across the room until it landed with a soft thud against the stone slabs of the wall. Dissatisfied with such an anticlimactic violence, her pent up rage found a target in the idle crown, glimmering in golden hues against the candle light. With gritted teeth, Edelgard gripped the gilded edges of the headpiece, clutching it and feeling the weight sink against her skin.

“Damn them all!”

The weighty hunk of metal flew across the room amidst a maelstrom of scattered parchment. A sharp clamor rang like a piercing din in the chamber, and the crown dropped like an anchor as it fell on the wooden floorboards with a thud.

“Damn them all…” she repeated in a soft, trembling murmur. Edelgard felt queasy. She clutched the edge of the desk for support, her hands feeling clammy in the tight fabric of her gloves.

Why did she feel this way? Unflinching as Hubert was about the topic of arranged marriages, did Edelgard not wholeheartedly give her consent? Didn’t she know better than to give in to foolish - _foolish_ \- sentiment? The mere thought of the Adrestian Emperor succumbing to such _weakness_ was enough. The wobble in her knees gave way to a free-floating weightlessness, and Edelgard slowly sank to the floor - her train of red velvet and scattered letters enveloping her huddled form.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud_.

A gentle knock whispered softly through the door.

Edelgard’s spine straightened with alarm. “Y-yes?!” she called out, doing her best to conceal the coarse and shaky tone in her voice. She quickly wiped away the tears with the back of her gloved hand, unaware that she had incidentally smeared what little paint and powder was left on her face.

“It’s me,” the intruder answered laconically from behind the massive slab of wood.

“Oh.”

Edelgard stood frozen by the desk, feeling a mix of relief and mortification that the _professor_ might have heard her ruckus. “Uh-um… professor, now is not a good time!” A more violent flurry of papers flew about as Edelgard rummaged and fumbled, trying to make everything look as neat as possible while not quite succeeding at her task.

“I heard something loud,” Byleth insisted with none of the urgency one would expect.

“It’s… it’s nothing!" the emperor stammered, absolutely flustered as she tried to fix her hair and panicked at the absence of a weighty crown. “I was… I was training! Yes, training! So please leave here at once! I am _absolutely_ -” she yelled the word with great emphasis, “ _absolutely_ indisposed!’

The door swung open with a screech. Edelgard felt her heart sink to a pit in her stomach. And Byleth, with nothing save a concerned curl in her lower lip, entered the chamber. “What’s all this?”

“N-nothing!’ Edelgard shot up in her posture, affecting a staunch and imperious gait. “As I said,” she continued, lowering her voice so it was calmer and more collected, “I was training.”

Byleth’s gaze stopped at the crown rolling pathetically against a slab of the stonewall. Its curved metallic ridges gleamed in the candlelight a softer hue. “By throwing your crown against the wall?” She raised a skeptical brow as the slight frown she had entered the room with rose to a smirk.

“You never know when or where the enemy will strike!” Edelgard quickly answered, tilting her chin upward for a boost of confidence. “It is best to be prepared, and to use _anything_ to your advantage.” For a brief and fleeting moment, Edelgard was grateful that inordinate amount of time spent dueling Ferdinand had furnished her with an ample excuse.

Yet something in the unchanged stoicism of Byleth’s countenance told Edelgard that the excuse… didn’t quite work. The flimsiness of it was enough to leave the emperor feeling a little sheepish, if not even more foolish than the rather uncharacteristic explosion of her tantrum.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Edelgard commanded, a little curt and much too whiny than her usual speech. “Surely even I can be allowed a little privacy.”

“You are,” her professor replied, matter of fact.

“Then... why are you still here?”

“Because I _also_ heard shouting.”

For a while, neither of them said anything. Edelgard tried to conceal a pout, biting down her irritation with the fact that the ancient walls of Garreg Mach could be so thin. “Go ahead,” she said, giving in, “say it.”

“Say what?” Byleth took a step back, crossing her arms as she eyed her former student quizzically.

“You have that look on your face,” Edelgard answered, averting her gaze so as to focus on the pile of unanswered letters on her desk. “So say what you came to say and be done with it.”

A few seconds of silence hung over them as Byleth continued on with the wordless impasse. It was true, she _did_ have a type of look about her, especially when she was deep in thought. But seeing how the otherwise dauntless Edelgard shrunk, as if the look entailed a ruthless reproach on her part, well… Byleth didn’t really know what to say to _that_.

“I have nothing to say,” she answered candidly. “I only came to check on you, because I was worried.”

Byleth didn’t exactly wait for Edelgard to answer, defensive as she already was. The former professor settled instead for a point of concern: the lonesome crown, hovering on its side against the wall. She quickly traversed the room, taking care to avoid the papers strewn about and picked it up. Much to her surprise, the crown weighed like more bricks than it should have, for Byleth’s shoulders were pulled taut by the density of the gold, glimmering as it was in the dark.

Edelgard herself seemed keen on simply watching. Byleth was never a woman of many words, but her rather calm and easygoing demeanor was always a point of interest. Even after she had recovered the crown and proceeded, with little ceremony, back to the emperor’s side of the room, the tension seemed to seep away with the moments that flitted by.

“An emperor is nothing without her crown.”

She presented the crown, sitting flatly on both of her hands, to Edelgard.

“Strange,” Edelgard scoffed, refusing the gesture as she looked askance, “With or without the crown, I feel less and less of an emperor everyday.”

Byleth laughed softly.

“What’s so funny?” the other woman asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Byleth quickly answered, “only that you haven’t changed.”

Edelgard was taken aback. She turned to face her former professor, somewhat disarmed by the notion as she fought back the instinct to argue otherwise. But, looking at Byleth’s calm exterior and finding a keen, if not innocent, hint of a smile on her face, Edelgard couldn’t help but break down _some_ of her walls.

“You’re right,” she replied, a tone of remorse seeping through her words, “even then I always looked to you for guidance. I’m afraid not much has changed since.”

Byleth readily shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

Edelgard mulled over those words. Her features smoothed to a stern composure. Staring blankly at Byleth, the haze of the previous moment’s tears were swept away, and she took the crown from Byleth’s hands before placing it gently on the desk. “Back then, I made a promise,” she started, adopting a more sober tone as she turned to face the unanswered letters. “I was resolved to achieve my ambitions, no matter the cost.”

Byleth looked back at her, the lighthearted glow dissipating as a grimmer frown found its way back to the surface.

“Death, destruction, betrayal…” Edelgard continued, her countenance becoming more and more crestfallen, “no matter the price, I was more than willing to pay. But-... _marriage_...” She choked on the word, gritting her teeth before turning away. Some barriers were stronger than others, and it didn’t take long for the emperor to cover up her anxieties with a laugh - forced and tapered as it dwindled back to a sullen frown. “You must think me foolish,” she muttered.

“Not at all,” Byleth replied in a hush. She turned Edelgard by the shoulder, taking in her small hands with reassuring familiarity. “I think you’re very brave,” she continued, steadying the emperor by the grip of her fingers.

To that, Edelgard couldn’t help but let out a soft and wistful chuckle. If she had to think on it, her professor always knew the right things to say. More than that, Byleth made her feel _held_. “Hubert -... no, the whole empire,” she began, suddenly finding the courage to let her worries stumble down from her shoulders, “ _everyone_ expects me to marry.” Like a reflex, Edelgard found herself nuzzling the gloved palm of Byleth’s hand, undaunted by her own forward display of affection.

“Even before the war, I knew an arranged marriage was my fate,” she murmured. The shaking returned to Edelgard’s voice, and her limpid eyes fell downcast as she struggled to continue. “But this morning, Hubert had left a proposal on my desk.”

The corner of Byleth's mouth receded back to a tightlipped silence.

“It’s an ideal marriage … In fact, the advantages from it could turn the tide in our war.“ Edelgard’s voice perked up from the prospect. There was no cheer or delight in the news, but a gnawing sense of desperation dogged her explanation, as if _she_ was trying with all her might to believe in those words.

“But you don’t love him,” Byleth finished for her. The statement was matter of fact, like a drop in the wind. It left both women feeling suddenly cold.

“Love him?” Edelgard repeated back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t even _know_ him.”

For once, Byleth didn’t know what to say. War, friendship, or even the small and daily struggles of life were always within her purview. But love? Romance? _Marriage_? Her heart felt a gnawing tightness at the thought. “There must be another way,” she offered, feeling a little sheepish at how pathetic she sounded.

“My happiness is a small price to pay if it means saving the lives of hundreds - no, _thousands_.”

Edelgard receded into herself. Her fingers wove into each other, forming both hands into one clenched fist. Funnily enough, Byleth thought it looked almost as if she was in prayer.

“And you’re sure this is the only way?”

Byleth’s skepticism was not exactly out of the ordinary, but it surprised nonetheless. Edelgard turned to her, taken aback by the rather unexpected question. “Professor,” she spoke with a sullen sort of frown, “I appreciate that you’re trying to help. I _do_ , but… there’s nothing we can do.”

“Nothing,” Byleth said back. The word fell like a heavy pronouncement on both their ears. But she wasn’t quite ready to give up. “Nothing at all?”

At this point, Edelgard broke away. She paced to the foot of her bed, her back facing her professor as her hands clenched back into nervous fists by her side. “Tomorrow, I am expected to agree to this proposal, and then,” she paused, turning to hide the sorrow dogging her eyes, “I will marry by the end of the month.”

“That’s… _fast_ ,” Byleth said blithely.

“Indeed, it is." Edelgard let out an exasperated sigh as she plopped down to her bed. She looked to her professor with an earnest plea. “I never cared much for love stories, but now as I am about to be married, I can’t help but wish I read one to know what it’s like.”

Byleth followed in the emperor’s steps, her expression still wrinkled with concern. She sat close - but not too close - on the edge of the bed closest to the bedpost. A sliver of moonlight coming in from the window fell in panes along the rich fabric of her covers.

“I doubt you’ll learn much from books,” Byleth quipped.

Edelgard _should_ have laughed at that one. But all it elicited was an awkward attempt at a chuckle.

“Besides,” Byleth added, this time with a more serious tone, “I doubt any nobleman after your hand in marriage would care for romance.”

Edelgard’s hand clutched the bunch of fabric bundled by her side. “You’re right,” she agreed, her voice lilting down to a whisper. “I suppose happiness is not in store for me-”

“Well, I didn’t say _that_ ,” Byleth cut in reproachfully, but not without a tacked-on grin. Her head fell back with a hint of laughter that couldn’t quite come out. But her hand still found its way, gently falling as she reclined on the bed, closer to Edelgard’s. The tip of their fingers pressed down on the mattress, feeling the shared weight of their fingers against the sheets. “But you _could_ give this marriage proposal more thought. Powerful allies can end the war faster - true, but it can also pose problems down the line.”

“Professor?” Edelgard’s eyes shot up, widening in muted shock at Byleth’s words. “What do you mean?”

Contrary to what her position and popularity might suggest, Byleth wasn’t very good with words. She bit down on her lower lip as she mulled over a possible explanation, all the while catching a glimpse of the addled girl before her. She pressed her arms against her chest, letting her chin perch on one hand as her eyes drifted to the smooth grooves of the floorboard.

“There’s a saying I learned growing up in Remire,” she continued. “‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Edelgard raised a concerned brow, masking her own worries over her professors’ strange bouts of rather commonplace wisdom. “Professor,” she sighed, “ _everyone_ says that. But I don’t see how-”

“You can always fight with more forces,” Byleth cut in, staying true to her course. “You can always fund the war with more resources…” Her large green eyes dimmed with the waning moonlight, crestfallen as her ankles crossed over the floor with busy contemplation. “But you can’t rely on this marriage to win a war, neither should you expect that it will help _after_ the war, too.”

Her instinct was to fight - to argue and to protest that she and Hubert had thought it through. The marriage was the _best_ way, and nothing could beat the cold, calculating logic of-

“Remember, you started this war to build a new future,” Byleth continued. Her tone fell like soft waves - nothing but a murmur in the revelation unraveling before Edelgard. “A man who doesn’t share your vision has no place in _your_ future.”

Byleth’s hand fell gently on Edelgard’s clenched fist, calming the fire of thoughts that had raged mere moments before. The latter’s lavender eyes gleamed with the tremors of stubborn disbelief - with an idea _too_ good that she couldn’t help but turn away. Edelgard whipped to the side and averted her gaze, flinching when she sensed her professor peer closer.

“I-...” she stammered, “I never thought of it that way.”

Indeed, she hadn’t. Once she defeated the Church and dismantled the intricate web of lies that were centuries in the making, the nobility would wither with it too. And what would be the point of it all if, in her desperation, she entered into something so hypocritical as an alliance with yet _another_ ambitious and power-hungry nobleman?

For the first time since Byleth appeared, Edelgard smiled. “You know professor,” she started again, not at all letting go of her newfound grin, “you have such an interesting way about you.”

Byleth looked up, startled by the sudden change in topic. “What do you mean?”

Edelgard slouched where she sat, facing her professor once more. “I was so caught up in the path before me, I failed to see where it would lead, but you,” she stopped, leaning her head to the side playfully, “you have a… _different_ way of looking at things. You don’t let the present blind you from seeing the future, _or_ the past, for that matter. It’s very freeing, actually.”

To that, Byleth could only smirk. She picked up her legs from where they dangled off the edge of the bed, kicking them playfully now that the heavy air had vanished from their tranquil evening. “Heh,” she said, somewhat smug, “they don’t call me professor for nothing.”

It was an interesting reaction to her compliment, to say the least. But all the same, Edelgard couldn’t help but demur, allowing herself the luxury of blushing at her professor’s rather lackadaisical manner. _Only_ Byleth could speak with such wisdom while acting so... _whimsical_.

“Well, thank you, my teacher,” Edelgard murmured. “Before you came here, I thought I was doomed to a loveless marriage.” There was a hint of loathing in her tone - not so much disgust, but an adequate level of disdain all the same. Edelgard could only shake her head at the thought.

“Hey,” Byleth interrupted in feigned reproach, “I’m sure marriage isn’t all that bad.”

“Oh? I guess not,” she answered with a trail of laughter.

“Not with the right person, or so I think,” Byleth tacked on, winking without really meaning anything by it. To someone like her, one just _does_ things, and she felt that winking was a good way to punctuate the pep talk.

All the while, Edelgard caught the gesture with nothing short of a storm brewing in her heart. She heard and felt every senseless beat as her cheeks glowed with warmth. By then she had run out of clever responses. In fact, she couldn’t quite think of _any_ response for the moment.

The two suddenly found themselves in that awkward impasse, where all the words in the world couldn’t even begin to calm the simmering confusion within. While Edelgard was lost in her own tempestuous thoughts, Byleth gawked in her bewilderment. It was _extremely_ unlike El to be so reticent.

“El?” she broke first, “Are you okay?”

Thankfully, her professor’s more concerned inflection broke through the panic within. Edelgard jumped up from where she sat on the bed, looking startled as she absentmindedly fixed the creases on the train of her dress. “Oh! Um! Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?”

But her rather emphatic reassurances could only pull the corners of Byleth’s mouth to a taut frown. Edelgard did her best to steady her breath, relaxing from her stiff posture for a more convincing performance.

“I’m better actually,” she said with more calm. “Thank you, professor. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“I’m glad.” Byleth beamed at the thought, inching to rise from the bed while letting her hand fall once more on El’s. “If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

And from there, the two would have been contented to end things. Byleth left the bed without so much of a huff, ambling away from Edelgard as she watched wistfully at her receding figure. And the former _really_ was going to let it end there, until a thought suddenly gnawed at her brain and brought on a renewed sense of alarm.

“Just,” she said, facing away from the door as she turned the latch, “don’t throw your crown against the wall… or anywhere, okay?”

The warm glow that Edelgard once felt burned to a rosy color on her cheeks. The emperor tensed up, dying from the thrill of infatuation _and_ embarrassment. “Oh uh-... of course!”

“Good.”

The door creaked as Byleth swung it open, all the while the famed professor turned once more to her emperor. That Edelgard was sitting with a confused look - red-faced in her embarrassment - was, of course, nothing short of adorable. In that moment, Byleth was only thankful that, since her coronation, Edelgard hadn’t _forced_ her to stop her teasing as a sign of fealty. And since she had that freedom, well-... Why not continue on?

“Goodnight,” Byleth spoke out as she left, careful to add a deliberate wink.

What was once rosy flashed into scarlet. Edelgard simmered in her bed, waiting for the soft shutting of the door to dive into her many pillows and scream - bewildered, confused, mortified, and (most of all) elated. By the time her muffled screams sank into the silky bedding, the emperor of Adrestia clutched one pillow close to her heart. Her eyes fluttered to a close in remembrance of the words of wisdom her professor had spoken that night.

 _“Not with the right person,”_ Byleth had said.

Indeed, Edelgard thought, perhaps marriage wouldn’t be so bad after all. So long as it was with the right person.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this was my first Fire Emblem fic. I would appreciate any feedback or comments you have as I plan to improve and write longer stories! Thank you for indulging this small bit of Edeleth slow-burn fluff!


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